While the archæologist must regret the many old landmarks which were ruthlessly shorn away in the construction of the modern Esplanade, he must, nevertheless, contemplate with never-ceasing admiration that great and laudable work. It has done for Toronto what the Thames embankment has effected for London. Besides vast sanitary advantages accruing, it has created space for the erection of a new front to the town. It has made room for a broad promenade some two or three miles in length, not, indeed, of the _far niente_ type, but with double and treble railway tracks abreast of itself, all open to the deep water of the harbour on one side, and flanked almost throughout the whole length on the other, by a series of warehouses, mills, factories and depôts, destined to increase every year in importance. The sights and sounds every day, along this combination of roadways and its surroundings, are unlike anything dreamt of by the framers of the old Patent of 1818. But it cannot be said that the idea contained in that document has been wholly departed from: nay, it must be confessed that it has been grandly realized in a manner and on a scale adapted to the requirements of these latter days. For some time, Front Street, above the Esplanade, continued to be a raised terrace, from which pleasant views and fresh lake air could be obtained; and attempts were made, at several points along its southern verge, to establish a double row of shade trees, which should recall in future ages the primitive oaks and elms which overlooked the margin of the harbour. But soon the erection of tall buildings on the newly-made land below, began to shut out the view and the breezes, and to discourage attempts at ornamentation by the planting of trees. It is to regretted, however, that the title of Mall has not yet been applied to some public walk in the town. Old-world sounds like these--reeve, warden, provost, recorder, House of Commons, railway, (not _road_), dugway, mall--like the chimes in some of our towers, and the sung-service in some of our churches--help, in cases where the imagination is active, to reconcile the exile from the British Islands to his adopted home, and even to attach him to it. Incorporated into our common local speech, and so perpetuated, they may also be hereafter subsidiary mementoes of our descent as a people, when all connection, save that of history, with the ancient home of our forefathers, will have ceased.